To Hell and Back
by Black Eyed Demon
Summary: Lucifer is locked in his cage but Sam is in there with him. Gabe is heartbroken and living with Dean and Cas, the lovey-dovey-lovebirds. The beginning is short and kind of vague, but give it a try. Shash, Destiel, developing Sabriel.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Hi! I've wanted to write a Sabriel fanfic for a long time, but I've never really gotten anything to write about. In my Language Arts Class in school I got a prompt from my teacher: "You're digging in a garden and find a fist-sized nugget of gold." I wrote it in school and modified it to Sabriel. **

**All you need to know is that this is a sort of AU of season 6. First of all, Dean did not go to Lisa (I really don't like her), instead confessing his love to Cas. Gabe came back from the dead and is living with them. **

**Enjoy!**

You're digging in a garden and find a fist-sized nugget of gold.

What do you do?

Well, a righteous person tells somebody.

A thief keeps it and pretends it didn't happen.

But what do you, Ex-Trickster and Archangel Gabriel, do?

You want to do the right thing but you can't.

You can't do the wrong thing but you want to.

But what happens when a hand pops out of the ground and clutches the gold? Your gold?

You pull but the hand is stronger. You try hurting the hand but it is too fast.

You think that this is the end, that you're never going to be able to possess the gold. Your gold.

You try to reason with the hand, tell it that it's your gold, but you realize it doesn't have ears.

The hand begins to pull at the gold harder.

You get puled into the ground, trying to breathe (a trait you picked up from the human and angel-turned-human you've been living with).

The last thing you remember before you lose consciousness is you hoping that the hand will pull you right into hell, and you will be able to save Sammy.

**TBC**

**PS. This will be longer I promise!**

**Now, come on, review! please?**

**I'll update this either on Monday or Thursday, I promise.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Hi! Thank you so much for reviewing, it means a lot to me. **

#earlier that day#

* * *

#Dean's POV#

* * *

I woke up early and looked at the gorgeous man sleeping soundly beside me. I smiled, thinking how happy I was that I had Cas, who shifted and snuggled closer into me.

"Good morning, Dean," he mumbled, stoic as ever.

"Morning," I said, kissing my boyfriend's head.

Cas 'hmm'-ed happily at the greeting and proceeded to kiss me.

* * *

#Cas' POV#

* * *

I woke up early and snuggled into Dean, bidding him good morning.

"Morning," he said, kissing my head.

I 'hmm'-ed at the greeting, happy that I had someone to care for me.

I eagerly kissed back.

* * *

#Gabe's POV#

* * *

I couldn't sleep. All my thoughts were centered around him. Him and the fact that he is burning in hell and I'm topside and I can't do anything.

I miss him.

The way his eyes shone when he gave a rare smile...

The bitchface that was reserved just for me...

The way he breathed when I comforted him from a nightmare...

The fact that the last look he gave to anyone on Earth was to me...

I missed the chance to tell him I love him...

* * *

As I often do, I went to the graveyard. Not any old graveyard, but the one that Sam disappeared in.

I sat in my garden, the one built over the place where the door to the cage appeared, and cried.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Sam's cagemates, Micheal and Lucifer, circled around him. Crowley, who had tried to rescue the prisoner was already a bloody heap on the east wall.

Lucifer smirked, and Micheal started laughing.

The pain Sam expected to come never came, instead a bright light filled the room, making the two archangels scream and hold on tight to each other.

A majestic figure emerged from the light.

His long hair was billowing in the wind.

(He tried to brush his too-long-to-ignore-to-short-to-tie-back hair back).

He stooped to avoid hitting the high ceiling.

(Gabriel did not feel discomfort as he walked under the 5''8 ceiling, one inch above his head).

He calmly bent down to help the poor tortured soul.

(He cried Sam's name and ran to the giant, hoping that he wasn't too late).

He lifted Sam into his arms and disappeared in a flash of warm light.

(Even with his trickster/archangel power, his legs buckled under Sam's weight. He used his power to send Crowley, himself, and Sam to Bobby's, where Dean and Cas (Destiel) were staying).

**Author's note: Sorry, short chapter. I was out of ideas and I wanted to get this over with. I will update _maybe_ next week. Most likely, but still, _maybe_.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Hi! Updates are not speedy, I know that. I do not want you to feel like I've given up on this story or on you.**

Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It is not a large town, not small either. You pass through it a couple times a year, visiting your grandparents. They tell you of the cafe in town, the huge library, and what a jerk the mayor is. They tell you that Singer Salvage, a salvage yard on the town's outskirts, is owned and managed by the town drunk, Bobby Singer. They tell you not to go there, that he is a bad influence. You listen and steer clear of it. Until today.

You are on your way to your grandparent's house for your annual visit when you car breaks down. It is just your luck that you are right outside Singer's Salvage. You exit the car and lock it before walking into the yard.

You walk under the sign, **Singer's Salvage**, it has certainly seen some better days. There is no pavement, the walkway, and everything around it, are covered in sand and gravel. There are cars stacked upon cars. They are rusty, their windows are broken. Engines, tires, parts of metal and glass, are everywhere. Various tools, some new, but mostly old, litter the ground, mostly around the cars, but some in your way. You see and abandoned doghouse, **R U M - - I E – D **is painted on it neatly. The paint is chipped off, some letters are missing, and there are holes in the doghouse's roof. There is no dog there anymore. You see a house. It is white, the windows are closed and the curtains are blocking your view. The porch is also clean, even if some of the steps are sagging.

You ring the doorbell but hear no sound from the inside, so you knock. The door flies open.

"Crow-!" cries a bearded man who opens it. "Oh, sorry. I thought you were someone else," he says gruffly.

"Sir," you stammer "Are you Mr. Singer?"

"Yeah, who are you?" he asks.

"I'm Delilah. Delilah Mills. I'm Sheriff Mills' cousin. I'm visiting my grandparents, her great- aunt and uncle. My car broke down right outside your yard. I saw the sign and I remembered what they told me. So, I was wondering if you might help me."

He sighs and a look of relief passes over his face, it doesn't reach his eyes, they are disappointed.

"Alright," he says, and you follow him to your car.

You walk behind him and you notice that he turns his head constantly, as if searching for something. You see that his clothes are haphazardly thrown on him and that they are wrinkled, and kind of smelly. His hair, what little of it you see from under the baseball hat is uncombed and greasy.

He looks at your car and says some car-talk mumbo-jumbo that you do not understand. Your confusion is etched in your face.

"Alright, let me just fix it for you," he smiles kindly.

"Thank you," you say. "How much would that be?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'll do it for free."

You thank him and sit down in a chair that he offers you while he fixes the car.

You can see through his carefree demeanor and notice the way his muscles twitch and how he darts his eyes from side to side, again searching for something.

You look at the sun, it's setting, coloring the sky orange and pink. Suddenly, the sky flashes white. Maybe its not the sky. All you know is that you pass out and you hear voices. One is gruff. The second one is grave, but a hint of happiness is coursing through it. Two other voices are grumpy and tired.

* * *

_Gabe!_

_Get Dean and Cas! I have him!_

_Dean! Cas! Get your asses out here, ya idjits!_

_Bobby, Crowley's here._

_Where?_

_He's the bloody mass at my feet. I can't heal him, not yet. Most of my strength was drained. _

_Where's Sam?_

_He's the one I'm holding. _

_What's going on here Bobby?_

_Gabriel? What is the matter?_

_I have him. Dean, help me get him inside the house. Don't even dare say that I could have teleported in there._

_I wasn't._

_Let's go. Bobby, got your demon lover?_

_Idjit._

* * *

You're in your car. It's up and running. You're on the main road. You can drive a couple yards and you could officially be in Sioux Falls. You are a couple miles away from the Yard. There is no sign of Mr. Singer or the people he was talking to. All you know is that your car is fixed. How did you get here? Who were those people? Was it all just a dream? Or...

**TBC?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: Whoo! I'm still here!**

* * *

#Gabe's POV#

* * *

He's just lying there. Alone, on the ratty, old couch. He's unresponsive, barely breathing. I put my hand in his. It's cold. His fingers twitch in mine and I smile. This is the first time he made a voluntary action. I dare not call it involuntary, that would mean that he is, in fact, unresponsive.

I use my remaining angel powers to look at his soul. It is white. Pure. I am surprised. The man had spent more than a year in the darkest corner of hell, just Micheal and Lucifer for company. The lightness of his soul does not hide the marks, like scars, on it. They show every beating, flaying, stab, shot, every little thing that happened to Sam in his short life. Some parts shine brighter than others. They show every sign of affection, every time someone did not let him down, every upside in Sam's miserable life. There are areas that are blackening. They worry me. But I know Sam will survive. If—no- when he wakes up.

* * *

#Dean's POV#

* * *

Goddamn angel!

Sam's on the couch, he's sinking into it. He's asleep. I can take out all the memories without him out of my mind, and he can be Sam. He can be the baby Mom and Dad brought home when he was born. He can be the innocent little boy I pulled out of a burning house. I can picture the six-year-old who was attacked by the Shtriga because of me. I see the little boy who found out about hunting and gave me the amulet, the one I threw away. I remember the bullied teenager who wanted ot deal with everything by himself. He's the eighteen-year-old who got a scholarship to Stanford and left the life he hated. He's the devastated man I dragged out of his burning house, away from the woman he loved. Sam isn't the comatose Hell survivor, he's the man who teamed up with a demon, drank her blood, set Lucifer out of the Cage, who sacrificed himself to save the world. I see every fight he had with Dad, how his face lit up when he did did something right in Dad's eyes or when he aced a test. He's the little brother I teased relentlessly and the person I blamed for the Apocalypse. Now, all I want to see is him opening his eyes.

But I don't. Instead I see a short angel sitting by his side. Gabriel is holding his hand. Sam is moving his fingers. I get so jealous. I should be sitting by his side, holding his hand. I should have been the one that rescued him, not one of his worst enemies!

But I can't be mad at Gabe. He saved the man he loves. It's not fair to him if I'm mad. I'm just mad at the fact that he's not letting someone come near Sam. At least if he let me come near Sam. But I know he won't.

"Sam!" I hear. "Sam, that's right. Open your eyes! Dean! Bobby! Cas! Crowley! He's waking up!"

**Author's note: Update in 14-28 days.**


End file.
